


You Save Me

by FitzsimmonsForever



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cuties, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, I have no idea if this is good, SHIELD Academy, fitz gets drunk, simmons gets him home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 14:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10992393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FitzsimmonsForever/pseuds/FitzsimmonsForever
Summary: Late one night, Simmons gets a call. Her friend is drunk and needs someone to help him home. She isn't sure what's up with him, but he's acting a little strange.





	You Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this and I hope you enjoy! It’s another fanfiction for my Tumblr Prompt-a-thon. Thanks to the Anon that requested it and I hope that you like it! 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Tumblr at Fitzsimmons for life! I promise, I’m a pretty chill person… I think. xD
> 
> Also… would y’all want another chapter or two of this? I have ideas on how to continue but let me know in the comments if you are interested so I know I need to write more!

She’s finishing up a lab report when her phone rings. 

It’s late, the large glass windows of the science lab showing the dark sky outside, the sliver of the moon casting weak, white light along the tile floor. 

She looks over at the little mobile, buzzing across the lab table, wondering if it is even worth picking up. She was minutes from being done with the lab report. There couldn’t possibly be an important reason for it to be ringing right now. But something makes her answer the phone anyways. 

“Hello?” 

She can hear loud music in the background, the steady pulse like a heartbeat strong in her ears. 

“Hey, is this Jemma Simmons?” She doesn’t recognize the voice. 

“Uhh… yeah, it is?” 

There is silence on the other line and Simmons shifts uncomfortably, flipping off the microscope in front of her and leaning back into her seat. “Who is this?”

“It’s Harry. From your Chem class. You- uhh- gave me your number a couple weeks ago for a project,” he said. 

He sounds a little drunk and Simmons thinks she knows what this is, and honestly, she isn’t interested. She had gone on a date with Oliver yesterday and it went well. 

“I don’t know-“ she begins to turn him down, but his next words stop her. 

“You’re friends with Fitz, right?” 

She almost drops the phone. 

It’s a solid ten seconds before she realizes that she still hasn’t answered the guy on the other line. Her voice cracks a little. 

“Yes, is everything alright? Are you with him?” 

Henry is saying something aboutthe Boiler Room bar, something about how she needed to come and get him or else he was going to drink himself to death. 

She feels as if she is in a dream, grabbing her bag without cleaning any of her supplies up. 

Fitz needed her, and nothing else mattered. 

 

The bar in question is almost empty, save for a few people. Henry is sitting with a couple friends and gives her a little wave before gesturing over to where Fitz was. 

He is sitting in the corner at a booth, the table scattered with empty glasses of various shapes and sizes. One of them, a beaker, lays toppled on it’s side. 

She would have laughed at that if she hadn’t been so worried. 

“Fitz?” 

He looks up, his eyes unfocused. 

“‘ey Jem!” he slurs, swinging a hand up in a sort of half-crapped salute. She blushes. He did something he normally didn’t do, called her by her first name. She brushes the feeling off. 

“Right, Fitz. You’ve definitely had more than enough for the night.” She tries to take the half-empty cup out of his grip, but he swings it to the side to stop her. In doing so, most of the remaining liquid sloshed out of the top of the glass and over the already soaked table top. 

He had to have been here for hours to have had this much to drink. 

“I swear, I’ll finish tha’… wazzit called again- dammit- I’ll finish my par’ of the essay.”

His accent is thicker now, as if the alcohol had chipped away at his control. 

“I- Fitz, that is definitely not why I’m here,” she tells him, trying to keep the bite of anger out of her voice.

“You know they have the coolest new drink? Put it in a sciency bottle thing and everything,” he says with a laugh. 

“This- God, you’re insufferable.” 

“I know I’m beautiful, Jemmmmm. But I’m not God.” He snorts. 

“Shut up, Fitz. I’m not hitting on you,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“But… would you want to… I mean… If you had the chance…?”

“No, Fitz. Bloody hell, you are drunk out of your mind,” she snaps. 

He blinks at her, looking a little bit like a kicked puppy. 

She rolls her eyes and grabs him by the arm, pulling him to his feet. “You know we have classes tomorrow?” 

He ignores her. 

Simmons rolls her eyes and continues to drag him unceremoniously out of the bar. They get about halfway up the stairs before he leans over and throws up, narrowly missing her shoes. She lets him balance against her until he is finished, holding him up as best she can.

“You okay?” she asks. 

He straightens, swaying. “No.” 

The cheery man from a few moments before was gone, replaced by someone more somber, more weary. 

They continue to climb the stairs. 

“Why did you go out, Fitz?” she asks He doesn’t answer until they are out of the boiler room and back in the main part of the academy. 

“I- don’t wanna explain it to you,” he says, wiping at his sweaty face with the back of his shaking hand. 

“You could have called me earlier,” she says. “I would have come and hung out with you if you needed me to. We’re friends, Fitz.” 

Fitz just rubs one hand over his face, and she pauses to let him, one hand still resting on his arm. 

“Sorry,” he says, and he is unable to look her in the eyes. She wishes she could have the drunk-and-happy-Fitz from only a few minutes ago. 

“It’s fine, you’re okay… I’m just worried about you,” she says. 

They stand in silence. 

They make it to his dorm room, Simmons glad that it’s so close to the Boiler Room. She didn’t know if he could have made it any further. 

“Will you be okay tonight?” she asks him. She knew he didn’t have alcohol poisoning. She had been looking out for the signs since she had seen him and, even though she knew he would have a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, she knew he would ultimately be fine physically. 

“I’ll be fine,” he says.

She turns to walk away, but his hand grabs her own. His touch is like fire and her heart beats a little more rapidly. 

“Thank you, Jemma,” he says before shutting the door. 

 

The blaring of his cell phone drags him out of sleep, his head aching and his stomach churning. He doesn’t know if he can move, isn’t sure if he can command his muscles and bones to move in the right way to even roll over and grab the phone. 

Somehow, he does. 

“Hey Fitz!” 

She sounds so goddamn cheery. 

“Simmons? What the…?” he groans. 

“I was just calling to see if you were up,” she says, and he resists the urge to throw the phone, a smile dancing across his face before he can stop it. He owes a lot to her. 

“Yeah, I’m up. Thanks, Simmons…. I’m just gonna go… throw up now.” 

“Oh, Fitz, I hope you feel better. Try not to be late. After all, we have the lab report due today and I wanted to make sure you show up to class so you can turn it in.”

“Oh shoot— I knew I forgot—“ he groans, rubbing his hand over his eyes. 

She’s laughing at him and he’s too tired to be angry.

“Don’t worry, Fitz. I called you thirty minutes before class to get you up and finishing the report. I’m outside with coffee.” 

With that, she hangs up. He lays in his bed for a second, staring at the ceiling, his heart warm. She really did save him, he realizes. 

He owed her more than he could give, wanted to be able to _tell her._ He just hoped one day, he would have the courage to do just that. 


End file.
